


An Evening on Coruscant

by magumarashi



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Age Difference, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-13
Updated: 2016-01-13
Packaged: 2018-05-13 16:45:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5709685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magumarashi/pseuds/magumarashi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>AU where Padme falls for Obi-wan instead, because come on. This has assuredly been done before but these movies came out when i was eight, and now that I'm finally rewatching them I realized that Padme could have done a lot better and I wanted to make that happen (in a digestible chunk, bc my friend Shu recc'd me like 10 novel-length fics i'll never have time to read)</p><p>ANYWAY</p><p>Set about 5 years into the decade between Phantom Menace and Attack of the Clones.<br/>enjoy</p>
    </blockquote>





	An Evening on Coruscant

**Author's Note:**

> AU where Padme falls for Obi-wan instead, because come on. This has assuredly been done before but these movies came out when i was eight, and now that I'm finally rewatching them I realized that Padme could have done a lot better and I wanted to make that happen (in a digestible chunk, bc my friend Shu recc'd me like 10 novel-length fics i'll never have time to read)
> 
> ANYWAY
> 
> Set about 5 years into the decade between Phantom Menace and Attack of the Clones.  
> enjoy

It had been a tiring day at the senate. Padme’s attendants carefully unwound her hair as she dabbed at her face with a wet towel, gently stripping off the makeup and paint. She had her assistants braid her hair--a single, modest thing to give her hair a rest--before heading over to her couch to read. She found particular comfort in reading after a trying day, and today she needed it more than ever. 

Padme had been chipping away at an older book; one full of tales of the Jedi knights and the old order. It was exciting to read about such times, about the dashing Jedi who fought for peace with their handmade blades. She’d met more than a few Jedi herself, but something about them put her off. They seemed more withdrawn than the Jedi of the past; walled off behind politics and austerity. None of them were nearly as charismatic as the heroes in her books.

Well, all but one. 

She’d met one Jedi who greeted her as warmly as a summer breeze on Naboo. The few times they’d met he’d spoken to her as though she were a _person_ , and not a figurehead--affording her the proper respect, of course, but asking after her health and joking with her, and _including_ her in ways that she felt the other Jedi never did. The Jedi made a great fuss over keeping themselves separate and distant from civilians, but this young knight didn’t seem to see the point. It was always, “Well met, your Majesty,” followed almost immediately by “It’s good to see you in good health, _Padme_.”

Padme busied herself with finding her spot in her book; eager to push the thoughts of him out of her mind. They had a considerable difference in age, and he was a trained Jedi at that… To say he was out of her league would be the understatement of an era. There was no way that a queen and a Jedi could--

“Your Highness!”

Padme looked up as an attendant strode in, red and yellow robes flowing.

“A message from the Jedi Council,” the attendant informed her.

Padme’s heart leaped into her throat.

“Speak,” she said.

“Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker are returning to Coruscant to speak with the Jedi Council.”

Though Padme was elated, she chose her response carefully.

“This concerns me… how?”

“Kenobi and Skywalker seem interested in having an audience with you as well.”

“It _has_ been a while, after all,” Padme mused, “You may tell them that I would be happy to have them visit me here. Please inform them which times are most convenient for me.”

“It will be done, your Highness.”

As the attendant turned to leave, Padme couldn’t help smiling to herself. Her heart beat just a little faster in her chest.

_I’m going to see him again soon…_

_That charming Obi-wan Kenobi_.

* * *

He stared out the window absently, watching the countless skyscrapers of Coruscant pass but not _seeing_ them. His mind was elsewhere, and not even his padawan’s somewhat erratic driving could tear him back to reality.

Obi-wan didn’t much like Coruscant. It was stuffy, full of politicians and tradesmen--and more than that, it was the seat of the Jedi council, and he particularly disliked visiting them. The two of them had, quite unfortunately, been summoned for Anakin’s yearly check-in, and Obi-wan wasn’t looking forward to it. To distract himself from the prospect of a lecture from Master Yoda (almost as much as a certainty as the summons from the Council each year) he found his thoughts wandering to other things to do and see on Coruscant. He had some friends here, few and far between, restaurants he’d frequented, even a few tourist destinations: he certainly had never been to the Jedi museum. More attractive than all of those, however, was the prospect of seeing the young queen of Naboo again after so long.

The last time he’d been to Coruscant, he’d just missed her. The senate’s session had ended mere days before his arrival, and she had already returned to Naboo. This time he’d been sure to put the world in ahead of time, so that he would at least know whether to be disappointed in advance. His heart had practically soared when the response came back that Queen Amidala would, indeed, be residing in the capitol for the duration of their stay.

For how infrequently he saw her, he could remember her face clearly; the color of her eyes, her gentle smile. Her serene appearance belied the fierce, brave leader she truly was: a woman who could fire a blaster without a second thought and had a tongue sharp enough to give even seasoned politicians pause. For someone so young, she practically _commanded_ attention--except when she was concealed as her own bodyguard, during which times he was always surprised by how easily she could disappear.

If only, he thought distantly, he could find a moment to disappear with her…

He’d found himself thinking about her more and more after they’d first met, even with his hands full training Anakin and bouncing around the galaxy at the Council’s request. She was young, to be sure--a nine-year difference in age was no laughing matter--but each time they’d met he’d walked away feeling the hole in his heart growing larger and larger. He longed for the opportunity to have her fill it, even if just for an evening, alone together in Coruscant’s steel canopy.

“Master?”

Anakin’s voice jerked him from his thoughts.

“Yes?”

“You’ve been staring out the window silently for half an hour. What are you thinking about?”

“Erm,” Obi-wan struggled to find an answer that wouldn’t embarrass him, “I’m making plans for our free day. Have you ever been to the Jedi museum, Anakin?”

“You’re the one who would have taken me there, master, so no.”

“Oh,” Obi-wan smiled, “Well, let’s go there, then! It’s very fascinating, and--watch it!”

Anakin jerked the joystick to the left, dragging the speeder and narrowly avoiding collision with cars heading the other way.

“We must be getting closer,” Anakin commented, “Traffic is getting a bit worse.”

“I knew I shouldn’t have let you drive…” Obi-wan mumbled to himself, “Just because the rental company said 14 is the legal age for humans--!”

“You seem fairly distracted yourself, master,” Anakin swerved to avoid another vehicle before speeding past a floating stop sign, “At least I’m watching the air.”

“Just _try_ not to get us killed, then,” Obi-wan groaned.

“Master, you wound me,” said Anakin, “You heard how I won that pod race on Tatooine. I can handle myself behind the wheel.”

“Yes, and I heard you only won because your competition all exploded,” Obi-wan shot back, “Just--try not to swerve so much, Ani.”

Watching Anakin attempt to navigate downtown traffic was enough to keep his thoughts off anything else.

* * *

The day of their appointment came. Padme had light business with the senate that morning, and Kenobi and Skywalker would be meeting with the Jedi Council for much of the day as well, but it was the only evening both parties had free. Padme could barely focus on her work; she let Chancellor Palpatine talk for _far_ longer than she usually suffered him to. She practically leaped out the door the second business was finished and made her way down to her waiting transport.

She had all afternoon to get ready, but she still couldn’t help busying herself with preparations. Her attendants helped her choose an outfit--they would have to match her colors, so she had to make sure she picked a combination they could complement with the clothes they had on hand. She pored over her catalogs of hairstyles (no servant could possibly remember how to construct all of them), wondering which of the more modest ones would most impress. She was used to using her appearance to make a statement among politicians, but here the statement she wanted to make was less clear. Subtle enough, she hoped as she held the silk and sheer dress up to her chest, that the younger Jedi would not catch what the older Jedi noticed.

She took a long time in the bath, letting the warm water melt away the fatigue of politics and treaties. Padme found herself daydreaming about the adventures she could be having; about asking Kenobi to slip away with her one evening and visit somewhere neither of them had ever been, just the two of them. The child Jedi could stay behind--and he _was_ still a child, even though five years had gone by. Even strict Jedi training had not quite ironed out his childlike spontaneity. There was never a dull moment with Anakin around--for better or for worse. But when the three of them were together, she always found her eyes wandering to Kenobi--glued to him, even.

“I’ll have to take what I can get,” she said to herself as she dried herself off.

“Hm?” holding fresh underclothes, her attendant perked up at the sound of her voice.

“It’s nothing. Here, hand me those.”

A chance to see them only came once a year, if that. She resolved to enjoy the evening, even if she couldn’t have it alone with the man she fancied.

* * *

_Private training with Master Yoda._

The words alone were enough to put a spring in his step as he approached the senate villas, tossing the car keys to the valet.

“I have an appointment with Queen Amidala of Naboo,” Obi-wan said casually to the waiting guards, “Last name Kenobi.”

“We’ve heard you were coming, Mr. Kenobi,” said one guard, “And… Mr. Skywalker is…?”

Obi-wan couldn’t help grinning as he repeated the words aloud:

“Private training with Master Yoda. Very last minute, couldn’t wait.”

“I see,” the second guard, tapped a bit on a datapad, “We’ve informed the Queen of your arrival. Her attendants will meet you shortly.

The guards showed Obi-wan inside before returning to their posts. The lobby was spacious, exquisitely decorated, yet somehow felt very empty. He was not waiting for long. An attendant in flowing purples and blues came to meet him, all but her eyes hidden behind a silk veil.

“My lady is sorry to hear that Skywalker could not be present,” said the attendant, “Right this way, Mr. Kenobi.”

The attendant led him into an elevator, which took him all the way to the queen’s private floor. He tried to calm his nerves as they left the elevator and stepped into the entryway.

“Obi-wan Kenobi. It’s been far too long.”

Her voice reached his ears, sharp and commanding, yet there was still a bit of familiarity there that tickled his heart. She was there, waiting for him at the top of the stairs in a cascading dress that matched her servants’ color scheme to the hue. Her hair sat atop her head in a curled braid more simple than her usual hair schemes, and her face, for once, had not a dab of paint. This was not a diplomatic meeting. This was the Padme Amidala that for a long time he’d been lucky to call his friend.

“Your Majesty,” Obi-wan knelt respectfully, looking first at the floor, then rising with his eyes only, “It’s good to see you well.”

“Indeed,” Padme smiled demurely, “Ladies, you are dismissed.”

Padme’s attendants nodded and took their leave, disappearing through well-hidden doors in the walls. As soon as they left, the atmosphere relaxed considerably. Padme’s smile widened.

“Rise, Obi-wan. We have a lot of catching up to do.”

“Indeed,” Obi-wan got to his feet and walked up the stairs toward her, offering his arm, “Shame Anakin couldn’t make it, though. He kept telling me he had all sorts of things to tell you about our adventures.”

“Yes, yes, a shame,” said Padme. Neither of them was particularly saddened by this turn of events. She took his arm--and damn her heart for skipping a beat the moment they touched--“I’ll just have to hear those stories from your lips instead.”

“Pity. Anakin tells them better.”

Padme laughed at this; at the thought of that young padawan telling _any_ story without bungling a word or two in the process.

The two of them walked into the main lounge, Obi-wan launching into the latest tales of their exploits. They wandered around the room as they talked, careful to avoid the furniture. Despite the lavish furnishings, the apartment still didn’t seem quite lived-in. This wasn’t Padme’s home, after all; just the villa she occupied when the senate was in session. She spent the other quarter of the year home on Naboo, and when she left office, another senator would take her place. But with Obi-wan regaling her with stories, she felt as though the entire room grew friendly and warm.

“And then there was the time we had to stop a smuggling ring--that was a job that did itself, considering they were trying to smuggle Banthas,” Obi-wan smiled, and Padme couldn’t help smiling back at him, “But really, enough about us. Jedi training is so much meditation and daily routines--how fare things with you, Padme?”

They’d ceased using formalities a long time ago--at least privately.

“Things… fare,” she said, and her voice sounded so _tired_ , “Politics are so complicated. Treaties here, sanctions there--and it’s all about appearances, of course. Negotiation. There are so many _voices_ in the senate, and it’s impossible to get everyone to agree--much less the number of people you need to get a motion passed.”

“You don’t want to get into the details, then.”

“I’d rather not, Obi-wan. It’s been a trying day.”

“Fair.”

“It just--some days it makes you wonder how someone with the most power in the galaxy can feel so utterly _powerless_.”

He could practically feel his heart breaking, but he did his best not to betray this in his face.

“Come, let’s talk of lighter things.”

They found their way to the couch, sat down, reluctantly released each other. Obi-wan kept his hands on hers without even thinking about it; in that moment he saw nothing else but her.

“You’re growing a beard,” she commented.

“I am,” said Obi-wan, “Not voluntarily of course, but it’s hard to maintain a clean-shaven face when you’re traveling all the time. Anakin doesn’t seem to be shaving yet, thankfully, or else you’d have two scruffy men on your hands.”

Padme laughed.

“I think it looks good, though,” she said, “Suits you, even. I don’t know what it is, but Jedi and facial hair just seem to _work_.”

“You like it…?” Obi-wan cursed his cheeks for flushing, “I… thank you.”

God, he wanted to _kiss_ her--wanted it so much it made his hands tremble.

And she, for her part, desperately wished he would.

“Can I get you something to eat?” she made to get up, but he held fast to her, gripping her fingers gently.

“I’m fine,” he said, “I ate before I came here. You don’t have to…”

Padme slowly sat back down, eyes never leaving his. For a while they just gazed at each other, drinking each other in--Obi-wan found that the longer he watched her, the more beautiful she became. Padme noted the same in him; even the uneven edges of his beard had their own rugged charm. And his eyes were so, so blue… 

“What aren’t you telling me, Obi-wan Kenobi?” she asked him quietly.

He felt as powerless as if she’d used one of his own mind tricks on him.

“Padme,” he began softly, “Don’t tell Anakin. Don’t breathe a word.”

“I promise you I won’t.”

He looked down, giving her fingers a meaning squeeze.

“The truth is, I… I love you. And have for some time now.”

Her breath left her. She just stared at him, mouth just slightly open, before responding.

“You…”

Obi-wan stood and turned away from her, leaving her hands in her lap.

“I shouldn’t have said anything. Forgive me.”

“Obi-wan--!”

She followed him and took him by the wrist, dragging him around to face her. She stared up into those blue eyes and steeled herself for her own answer.

“Why… why should you be embarrassed for something so wonderful?”

“Wonderful?” he echoed dimly, “Padme, I’m a Jedi, and you’re…”

“A queen,” she finished for him, “But I am also a woman, and you are a man, and… I feel the same way.”

_Smooth, Padme_ , she thought to herself, ‘ _I am a woman and you are a man?’How observant of you._

“Padme…” Obi-wan‘s pulse rushed in his ears, “You…”

“Ever since we met, actually…” Padme admitted, “Since you saved my life. I’ll admit it’s been a bit of a girlish fantasy, but--!”

In the next moment her cheek brushed rough fabric, and she felt the prickles of a beard on her scalp. Obi-wan embraced her tightly, running his fingers through her hair and holding her as though she might fly away.

“I’m sorry,” he said somewhat sheepishly, “I should have asked…”

“No, it’s fine,” Padme insisted. She closed her eyes, bringing her arms around to his back, “It’s fine…”

_It’s all I’ve been dreaming of, after all._

He released her slowly, bending to look her in the eyes. He cradled her cheeks in his hands, and she noticed the callouses on his palms and the tenderness in his gaze and _god_ , what she wouldn’t give to just--!

He touched his forehead to hers gently.

“Padme…” his voice came out low, “Padme…”

He still couldn’t believe what was happening, but there was nothing else in the room but _her,_ close to him, their breaths mingling in the quiet _._ Padme moved her hands up to his neck, tangling her fingers in his hair. She couldn’t help thinking how much better his hair looked now that he’d grown it out and done away with that tiny braid that had always bothered her. It _had_ been a while since they’d last met, and she was older now, and--!

“Padme,” Obi-wan drew her from her thoughts, voice just above a whisper, “I’d like to do something bold.”

“Bold?” Padme responded just as quietly, “A Jedi, doing something _bold_?”

He couldn’t help laughing.

“I thought it might be _too_ bold, so I wanted to ask…”

“Well, how am I to know how bold it is if you haven’t done it?”

_Ah, sharp as always_ , Obi-wan thought to himself. He tilted her head back just slightly and closed what was left of the gap between their lips.

Padme jumped, and Obi-wan immediately released her.

“Perhaps that was too bold…?” he offered.

“No, no,” Padme touched her tingling lips, “It’s just, erm, I hadn’t expected my first kiss to be so… scratchy.”

“Ah….” that was the moment Obi-wan’s heart melted, “That was your first? I’m sorry, perhaps I should have shaved before coming here--!”

“No, no!” Padme smiled bashfully, “You couldn’t have known that we’d--!”

“That’s true of course, but still…” he gazed at her, something new (and frankly, quite exciting) in his eyes, “If it bothers you, then I won’t try to kiss you until I shave--!”

“Obi-wan Kenobi,” said Padme seriously, taking hold of his face, “Don’t you ever say that again.”

“I--?”

“I only see you once a year, _if_ that,” Padme went on, “And you expect to let a beard get you out of a kiss?”

Obi-wan smiled playfully and took her in his arms again.

“You’ve wanted to kiss me for a long time, haven’t you?” he teased.

“Longer than I care to admit.”

“Well, then,” he drew closer to her, “Let’s see about paying off what I owe.”

He pressed his lips to hers, and this time she felt them: soft and warm, and _home_ ; for some reason she felt as though she’d finally found a comfort she needed and hadn’t quite had before. His beard pricked at her skin at first, but before long the hairs simply bent flat against her chin and became as much a part of her as they were of him. It was easy to ignore them amid the rush of her pulse and the sensation of his lips on hers.

They parted chastely; Padme’s mouth fell open a little in disappointment.

“Your second kiss, then,” said Obi-wan, “I hope it made up for the first.”

“More than made up for it,” Padme answered--and yet somehow, not nearly enough still. She stood on her toes to snatch a third kiss for herself, taking him completely by surprise.

“Padme…!”

She sat back down on the couch, taking him with her as though they’d planned it all along. He practically fell into her, and there was so much _need_ in the way he touched her: every brush of her cheek, every tender kiss; it was clear that he’d been wanting this just as much as she had.

“Obi-wan…!” her voice came to him breathless, and even the most rigorous Jedi training couldn’t make him control the color in his cheeks. It was dangerous, letting himself indulge like this… But weren’t Jedi fond of danger, anyway?

Obi-wan came back for another round, this time a bit more _hungrily_ than previous tries. Padme tried to match him blow for blow, but her partner’s experience was glaringly clear, and it was all she could do to keep up. Just as she neared the edge of her senses, something warm and wet snuck into her mouth and jerked her back to attention. She pulled away immediately, hand over her lips.

“Wh… what was that?”

“Ah, that was…” how could he explain it? As far as he knew, that maneuver had no name; he’d learned it a number of years ago on a sort of backwater planet, “If that was too much, then--”

“Was that your _tongue_?!”

“… yes.”

He couldn’t meet her gaze.

“I’m sorry, I got a bit carried away.”

“It’s alright,” said Padme, “It just surprised me.”

She’d read plenty of romance books--what dignitary with ample time hadn’t?--so she knew that, at least for humans, slipping one’s tongue into another’s mouth was a fairly common display of affection. Yet, it somehow hadn’t occurred to her that anyone would actually try it.

“It’s a little strange the first time, isn’t it?” said Obi-wan.

“Yes….” Padme looked at her hands, “I’d be open to trying again, but… not now.”

Obi-wan nodded in understanding. Eager to dispel the tension, Padme sidled back over to him and lay her head on his shoulder.

“We could do something like this for a little while,” she offered.

“Hm?”

“Kissing is nice, but…” 

_I’ve wanted to hold you for so long…_

“I never imagined you would be a snuggler, Padme,” Obi-wan said teasingly. Now it was Padme’s turn to flush, and she was all the more indignant that she’d let the color show so plainly. However, he was more than happy to oblige her. She shifted so that he could lay down on the couch, and he beckoned her to join him. Padme climbed onto him carefully, resting her head in the crook of his neck while he brought his arms up around her. She could feel his heart pounding against her own.

This was bliss, Obi-wan felt certain; he had never been more at home or content than he was right here, with Padme in his arms. The life of a Jedi had not exactly left room for intimacy; at least, intimacy beyond the occasional one-night stand or short-term fling on a distant world. He didn’t know if this would be any different, but something in his gut told him it was--something not unlike the flowing of the force through his veins.

And Padme, for her part, would have been perfectly fine lying here for a week straight--no politics, no senate, just this warm embrace and the pattern of their hearts beating in tandem. Obi-wan smelled of something unidentifiable, beyond the laundered scent of his robes and the slight spice she could detect beneath them--under all of that there was something distinctly, decidedly _him_. It was comforting, somehow. She began to wonder if he could sense the flora of Naboo in her hair or the sweet and spicy perfume she’d been saving, agonizingly, for a chance like this.

They knew the night couldn’t last. Obi-wan would have to make his way back at some point; there would almost certainly be a scandal if he stayed overnight. Padme dreaded the thought of Chancellor Palpatine coming to inform her that she would be late for the senate meeting, only to find a Jedi dozing next to her in bed. And Obi-wan didn’t want to think about _Anakin_ coming to find him, only to find him tangled up in Padme’s sheets. At the same time--how long until the next time they got a chance to be together this way….?

* * *

They must have dozed off on top of each other, because the next thing Padme knew, someone was tapping her shoulder gently.

“Hm…?” Padme opened one eye: an attendant stood near her, dressed in plain clothes. Padme shot up immediately in realization, “What--!? What time is it?”

“Well past midnight, my lady. I hate to interrupt, but I came to see if you needed some assistance getting ready for bed. Usually you’ve summoned one of us by this hour…”

“Thank you,” Padme smiled sheepishly. She glanced over at Obi-wan, who stirred slightly, “This is an embarrassing way to find me, isn’t it…?”

Obi-wan groggily opened his eyes; then sat up with a jolt.

“Oh, spirits,” he cursed, “How long were we out for?”

“It’s past midnight,” said Padme.

“Ugh, and I bet Anakin has already organized a search party.”

The two of them got to their feet, and Padme stretched. Her attendant hid a smile behind her hand.

“Mr. Kenobi will need to be shown back downstairs, I’m afraid,” said Padme with a yawn, “Oh, and don’t breathe a _word_ of this to the others. I don’t want any rumors going around.”

“I’ll do my best, my lady,” said her attendant, as though she wasn’t planning to gossip to the rest of the staff, “I’ll be waiting for you in the elevator, Mr. Kenobi.”

“Thank you,” Obi-wan cracked his neck.

As the attendant left, Padme turned to her lover one final time.

“Thank you for coming tonight,” she said with a smile, “It was absolutely wonderful. Just… thank you for everything.”

“And the same to you,” Obi-wan answered.

Padme offered him her arm.

“Come, I’ll walk you to the door.”

Obi-wan smiled a bit sheepishly before taking her arm. They walked slowly, almost as though they were trying to drag out their time together as long as possible.

“We’ll have to do this again,” said Obi-wan, “I don’t know when I’ll be back on Coruscant, so--!”

“So then you _must_ visit Naboo,” Padme interrupted him, “Spring is absolutely lovely, and the senate won’t be in session, so you can come visit any time you like. With or without Anakin,” though she added that last part as if to say, _please don’t bring Anakin._

“I’ll pencil you in, then,” said Obi-wan. By now they’d reached the door. He stood across from her, taking both of her hands, and for a while they just gazed at each other. That they would meet again like this was a certainty; the only question was when. Obi-wan’s stomach sank just thinking about how long it might be before he next had a very good reason to be on Coruscant.

“I don’t want to leave,” said Obi-wan quietly.

“Go,” said Padme, “You wouldn’t want Anakin to worry himself sick.”

“You’re right, that would not be pleasant.”

After a second of deliberation, Obi-wan leaned down and kissed her gently. Padme returned it, reaching her arms around his neck. They held each other for a long time; Padme savoring the scent of his robes, and Obi-wan searing the feel of her embrace on his mind.

“Goodnight, Obi-wan,” said Padme as Obi-wan released her. He walked backwards into the elevator, waving gently.

“Goodnight, Padme.”

“I love you.”

He didn’t have a chance to respond; the elevator doors had already shut between them.

* * *

“You’re back late, Master.”

“Hm. Sorry.”

Obi-wan kicked off his boots and flopped onto the bed in their hotel room. He was fatigued from the long day, but his heart was still racing from the evening. Anakin paced impatiently around the room, robes swishing.

“What kept you?”

“We talked all evening, Anakin. Politics, trade routes, Jedi business. It would have been horrendously boring. You would have fallen asleep right away.”

Anakin eyed him suspiciously.

“You’re a terrible liar, Master.”

“Well, maybe next time I’ll tell Master Yoda you have plans. How did your training go, anyway?”

“It went fine. Tell me about Padme.”

Obi-wan sighed.

“Listen, Anakin, I’m very tired. I’m going to go to sleep. I’ll tell you all about her in the morning.”

Anakin didn’t try to press the question, so Obi-wan assumed he’d just given up out of frustration.

“Tomorrow is our free day, correct?” asked Anakin.

“That’s right. Padme is in the senate all day, unfortunately. Dinner plans in the evening as well. I was thinking we’d go to the Jedi museum--they have a whole collection of relic lightsabers!”

“Fine, if it means we never have to go again.”

“You _are_ becoming precocious, aren’t you…?”

It seemed that Anakin was too worked up to sleep, so Obi-wan rolled on his side, closed his eyes, and tried to ignore the sounds of his footsteps circling the room. He called on his Jedi training to help clear his mind a little and block out any irritating noise. Anakin’s pacing fell away from his perception, and almost immediately, memories of the evening rushed in to fill it. He’d been walking on clouds as he left the senate villas, lips still tingling with the afterimage of her touch. He could still feel her now, pressed against him, sound asleep and breathing along with him. He found himself wishing--recklessly--that he could have stayed there the whole night wrapped up in her arms. 

After a while he fell asleep himself, lulled by the prospect of a spring visit to Naboo, where his queen awaited him… 

* * *

Padme did not go to bed for a while, despite her attendants’ help in getting ready. The nap had already thrown off her cycle; couple that with an almost uncontainable excitement, and she felt as alert as though it were the middle of the day. This had been an evening of firsts--first kiss, first cuddle; the first time a man had looked at her with a kind of admiration that wanted nothing in return. She was elated. She was nervous. She felt by turns like running around the room screaming and hiding under the sheets with a pillow to her face.

_Obi-wan Kenobi is in love with me._

It seemed silly--it _was_ silly, getting worked up like this, but how often does a man one admires from age fifteen suddenly reveal that he’s loved you all along?

Padme dismissed her attendants and climbed into bed; she supposed she might as well _try_ to sleep, but it wasn’t going to be easy. Her face still tickled somewhat from his stubble-- _god_ , but facial hair looked good on him. He’d been attractive enough when they met (save for the braid, of course), but now… now he was _handsome_. Dashing, even: like the Jedi knights in her book, and every bit as charming. She was already looking forward to their next meeting, perhaps among the spring flowers on Naboo. She began to put a list together of preparations she’d make, and the things she wanted to do together. There were meals to plan, and views to share, and… 

She was up daydreaming for quite a while before sleep finally coaxed her in, but that night she dreamed of him--of his prickly beard and blue, blue eyes and robes that smelled like home.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote the most perfect, diabolical bait-and-switch at the beginning of this fic only to have it perfectly, diabolically ruined by the fact that I have to tag this with the ship name so people will see it.


End file.
